Chrissie

"Oh, yes, Miss, it's all folded up real nice for him, Miss."

She sniffed. "Aren't you a little brown-noser? You know, Becca says you get on her nerves sometimes being such a kiss-ass."

"I ... uh, I'm sorry, Miss."

Marlene leaned back on the couch and stretched her legs. "Ugh, I did a lot of walking, Chrissie; I could use a foot rub."

"Yes, Ma'am."

I hustled to retrieve Marlene's favorite lotion, and for the next 45 minutes I sat on the carpet in front of the couch, massaging Rebecca's mom's feet while she relaxed and played solitaire on her iPad.

The foot massage set me back even further on my chores and I didn't finish everything until after midnight. The family was asleep by then, so I let myself out and locked up behind me.

Every bone in my body ached as I climbed into my car and headed homeward — but I forgot all about my physical pain when my phone dinged, and I absorbed the soul-crushing text message:

"Stay gone till I txt u back"

I knew exactly what that meant: My angel had a guy over.

With my bottom lip trembling, I drove to Nick's Diner, where I sat in my usual booth sipping my usual pot of coffee, wiping the usual tears from my eyes. I held out until 3am before giving in with the usual sad sigh.

I paid the bill, leaving my usual big tip, and drove to the Hilton, where I paid for the same suite I'd rented that fateful night a year earlier, when I'd saved Rebecca from her brute of a husband.

After pulling the comforter and a pillow from the king-sized bed, I curled up on the hard floor and cried all night.

Part XVII

My burger tasted like boogers. The sky made me cry.

The view out my hotel room window should've been spectacular, with the North River glimmering beneath a purple-orange sunset. The BBQ Bacon Burger Deluxe from Hilton's room service menu had set me back $36.99, not counting the tip, so it should've at least been halfway-decent.

But everything looked, smelled and tasted like shit because it was past 8pm and I hadn't heard back from Rebecca. That meant I couldn't go home. Worse, it meant she was still hanging out with whatever dickhead she'd hooked up with the night before.

Although the word "slut" wasn't an accurate description of my angel, she was definitely no wallflower, either. With an abundant cashflow (thanks to me), and nothing but free time on her hands after quitting the Best Buy job, Little Miss Newly Single Twenty-Something had been hanging out at the trendiest clubs several nights a week and enjoying an active sex life. She hadn't told any of her lovers about our Mistress/slave relationship, although when the subject of her living situation would come up, she'd explain that I was her gay roommate. That was highly embarrassing for me, but Rebecca and her friends thought it was hilarious.

Being a recent divorcee, my angel wasn't looking to get serious with anyone, and thankfully her flings had all fizzled after a few dates. Rebecca didn't like me being there when she brought guys home because she didn't want them feeling uncomfortable. The first few times she dragged someone back from the bar, I was forced to roll out of bed in the middle of the night and hustle off to a hotel. After a while, I begged her to let me sleep in my own bed during her spur-of-the-moment late-night romps, and she agreed as long as I remained silently in my room with the door closed. Still, if at all possible, Rebecca preferred that I not be home when she fucked her bar studs.

My angel had four platinum credit cards in her name and could have afforded the finest hotels in the world, but she insisted on bringing these idiots home because she was paranoid that hotel rooms were all equipped with hidden cameras. I'd never interacted with any of her studs, other than one evening when she was out shopping and some palooka returned to the condo to pick up the jacket he'd left behind. Our encounter was brief; after answering the door, I said, "here you go," and handed the garment to the tall, muscular dude, who grunted his thanks and split. I never did learn his name; as Rebecca's slave, it wasn't my place to ask, and she hadn't offered that information.

By nightfall, there was still no word from my princess, and as I sat gazing out the hotel window at the moonlit river, I was starting to wonder if I'd need to swing by the haberdashery before work the next morning to buy a new suit, since the only clothes I had with me were my sweats and the housework frock I'd donned to clean Rebecca's parents' house the previous day.

But at 9:37pm, my cellphone finally dinged, and the message I'd been aching for appeared:

"u can come home pick up dt coke"

I swooned. My angel and her Diet Cokes!

The condo was an absolute mess when I got home. So was Rebecca.

"Sorry 'bout that, Chrissie." She giggled at my gasp of horror as I took inventory of the living room, which was littered with beer bottles, empty glasses, many of which had been used as ashtrays, and pizza boxes. At the foot of the sofa, shards of a shattered wine goblet sparkled on the carpet near an elongated burgundy stain. The "Happy Birthday" banner I'd hung up Friday night lay on the floor, and while the gifts I'd bought my angel had been put away, the wrappings lay everywhere.

"Bryce wanted to see the Bears game, and then Gina and Ronnie came over to watch, and they invited Sal and Katie ... and the next thing you know it's a huge party." Rebecca groaned. "Ugh, we got carried away. Long Island iced teas. Fuuuuuuuuuuck."

After swallowing my resentment, I stood before my reclining mistress with my hands folded respectfully in front of me. "Um, Miss, I'm so sorry you're not feeling good; is there anything I can get for you before I get changed and start cleaning?"

"Yeah, we're out of Diet Coke," she snapped. "That's on you, Chrissie."

"I'm so sorry, Miss; I bought four cases last time I went shopping—"

She waved her hand. "Yeah, yeah, I know, my asshole friends drank it all, and it's all my fault. Now, can you shut up and go pour me a glass? Can you do that?"

"R-right away, Miss." I hurried to obey, lamenting how unfair and bitchy she'd become. She knew damn well I had nothing to do with her friends gulping down all the soda I'd bought, but she reamed me out about it anyway, just because she'd had too much to drink as usual and needed a whipping boy.

Being a submissive soul, though, my indignation at her nastiness quickly morphed into lust. After reaching beneath my panties and giving myself a quick diddle in the kitchen, I shoved those naughty feelings aside and fetched my mistress's soda, changed into my work dress and started cleaning while Rebecca relaxed on the couch watching TV.

I was on my hands and knees near the sofa tackling the wine stain when my angel smirked down at me. "We left a mess for you, didn't we, Chrissie?"

"Um, yes, Miss."

"Wow, what a birthday. Oh, hey, I loved the necklace you bought me, Chrissie."

I perked up. "Thank you, Miss, I'm so, so glad you like it."

She smiled. "The candy was good, too — although Bryce ate most of it, the pig."

Unsure what to say, I focused on scrubbing the stain while she continued.

"He's kind of an asshole, I don't know," she mused. "I mean, he's great in the sack, but I get so tired of these macho types who act like they're the king of the world just because they got a big dick. You know?"

"Um ... uh, yes, Miss."

"I mean, I married an asshole like that already. Ugh. Bryce is good for a fuck, but that's about it."

"Y-yes, Miss."

"Gina says she wants dibs on him when I'm done with him. By the way, she told me you should plan on being there late Tuesday; she's got a whole bunch of ironing she says she wants done."

"Yes, Miss."

"Oh, and my sister called earlier; she wants you to start swinging by her boyfriend's place once a week to clean. So, get the address from her."

"Yes, Miss. Um, I can't do it Mondays or Tuesdays because I'm at your mom's and Gina's."

"Well, whatever, work out a schedule with Em, but make sure you run it by me first."

"Yes, of course, Miss." I gritted my teeth at the prospect of even more work.

Rebecca snorted. "So, Mom and Em went out shopping yesterday, and left you alone with Randy?"

I averted my eyes. "Y-yes, Miss."

"And how did that go?"

I gulped. "Um ... he ... he had me ... do him." The last word cracked.

Rebecca tittered and shook her head. "He's such a perv. Ma says you're a godsend, though; she hates doing that."

"Um, t-thank you, Miss." Wanting nothing more than to end the conversation, I refocused on the carpet stain, struck by the contrast between the world Rebecca grew up in and mine. Both my parents were deceased, but I couldn't fathom them ever having discussed their sex lives with me — but in the Strickland family, the fact that Marlene didn't like giving blowjobs was such an open matter that she felt comfortable asking her daughter if her sissy slave could perform that duty on her husband.

It was an entirely different culture than what I'd been used to, but since Rebecca was my love and my light, I'd made the decision to put my shoulder to the grindstone and try to figure it all out — and, in the process, endure the humiliation of giving regular blowjobs to her slob of a stepdad. Afterward, I'd hate myself, convinced that my infatuation with Rebecca had gone way too far.

And then, eventually, Rebecca would flash that little smile, or do something else to make me fall deeper in love with her, and I'd end up thanking the stars for the opportunity to serve such a beautiful, wonderful woman. My unfair, one-sided relationship with Rebecca made my life feel complete, despite the sometimes-horrific debasements that came with it — and also because of them.

My angel went to sleep just before midnight, and I continued toiling quietly until 3am. When the condo was spotless, I trudged off to the maid's room and crashed, physically, mentally and spiritually exhausted, but with a smile on my dick-sucking lips.

Part XVIII

I had taken great pains to symmetrically arrange the cheese wedges, fruit and other nibblers on the serving platter, but Rebecca was too busy ogling a photo on her friend Katie's cellphone to notice my meticulous craftwork.

"Day-um, girl, you hit that?" My angel leaned forward and plucked a pineapple slice from the tray after I'd placed it on the table and reassumed my position at attention near the sofa with my hands folded like a good sissy maid.

"I'm gonna hit that." Katie giggled. "I gave him my number last night. And he definitely seemed interested."

Gina scooted over on the couch to have a look. "Oh, I've seen him around at The Odyssey; he's always talking to that blonde bitch behind the bar."

"Cassandra." Katie scowled. "Fuck that ho."

Gina turned to Rebecca. "Wasn't Cassandra trying to move in on Bryce?"

My angel scoffed and sipped her wine. "As if that heifer had a chance."

"How's it going with Bryce?" Katie set down her phone and grabbed a handful of grapes.

"Oh, I don't know, he's a fucking asshole." Rebecca rolled her eyes. "He thinks he's the king shit, like he can do whatever he wants to. I'm about getting tired of his bullshit, to tell you the truth."

"Well, when you're done with him, send him my way," Gina said.

Katie slapped her friend's thigh. "Don't be a leech, go get your own dick."

Gina downed her wine and snapped her fingers. "Ree-fill, Chriss-siiieeee," she sang and I sprang into action.

As I was pouring the Chardonnay, Gina smirked at me. "Did you know Rebecca's boyfriend has, like, the biggest dick in the world, Chrissie?"

I gulped. "Um ... no, Miss Gina."

"Well, it's huge."

Katie held out her empty glass and scoffed at her friend. "How do you know how big it is, bitch? You never seen it."

"She better not have," Rebecca said, putting on a serious face before cracking a grin.

Katie took a swig of the wine I'd just poured and pouted my way. "Poor Chrissie, you never get laid, do you?"

"Uh ... I ... um.."

"Chrissie gets all the sex he needs ... with his hand." Rebecca popped a grape in her mouth. "I can hear his little bed squeaking."

"Eww, that's gross," Katie slurred. "No offense, Chrissie, but it's kinda creepy to think of a little sissy in the next room perving like that."

"Oh, stop picking on my Chrissie." Rebecca smiled up at me. "You were nice and quiet in your little room when I brought Bryce home the other night, weren't you, baba? No squeaky bed at all, huh?"

"Um, er, no, Miss."

Katie snarled. "Well, the idea of a sissy jacking off just seems wrong. You need to cage him."

Rebecca squinched up her face. "Cage him? What's that mean?"

"One of those cock cages. You never seen one?"

"No, Katie, I've never seen a cock cage. What the hell is a cock cage?"

Katie thumbed through her phone and held it up, revealing a photo. "See? A cock cage."

Gina tittered. "What do you know about cock cages, girl?"

"My sister dated a guy who was into that shit. They call it chastity. A chastity device. They were into the same kind of master and slave stuff you guys are; I told you about them, remember? She said he'd wear this thing and go three, four months without cumming. Said it made him obedient as hell. He even got a piercing on his dick, and it attached to this thing with a lock, so he couldn't get out unless she unlocked him."

Rebecca squealed. "OMG, Chrissie's getting one of those!" She turned to me. "You need to order one, like, today." The blood drained from my face.

"The piercing, too?" Katie sipped her wine. "Laura says they can squeeze out of the other cages if there's not a piercing attached to it."

My angel batted her eyelashes at me. "Would you get your little pinky pierced for me, baba?"

"I ... uh ... er ... if ... if you want, Miss." Tears formed in the corners of my eyes but I managed to blink them back. "Whatever you want, Miss."

"Awwww, that's so sweeeeeet," Gina giggled, presenting her empty wine glass to me. "You'd do anything for Miss Rebecca, wouldn't you, Chrissie?"

I poured her fourth refill. "Um, yes, Miss Gina, I would."

Rebecca beamed. "My little baba."

"I don't know why you don't have him wear makeup, and put a wig on him when he's at home." Katie dipped a celery stalk into the ranch dressing cup. "Right now, he's just a little wimpy guy in a maid's dress." She took a crunchy bite, and said with her mouth full, "No offense, Chrissie."

"Makeup would be so cuuuuuuuttttttee," the drunken Gina slurred. "You should, Becca."

My princess looked me up and down and shrugged. "I dunno. I never really thought about it that much; I honestly don't care what he wears, as long as he does what he's told."

"Oh, but it would be so much fuuuunn making him up." With a smirk, Gina dug into her purse and started pulling out cosmetics. "Come over here, Chrissie; I'm gonna turn you into a pretty little sissy."

I was having a difficult time breathing, and my ears were hot from the avalanche of humiliation flooding my senses. Makeup had never been a priority to me, since my fantasy, which I'd been living out, revolved around being a man in a maid's dress and heels, rather than trying to pass as female. But as I shuffled toward the preening Gina, with my heart threatening to thump a hole through my apron, I knew that nobody else in the room gave a rat's ass about my preferences.

I knelt in the spot where Gina had indicated and she began applying coverup. "This is my good Maybelline, Chrissie, so you better be thankful."

"T-thank you, Miss Gina."

Katie turned to Rebecca. "Maybe if you make him look more like a woman, you won't have to worry about Bryce when he comes over."

"Oh, hell no." My angel shook her head. "He's so homophobic, it ain't funny. He can't stand the idea that I'm living with a gay guy; there's no way he'd go for a man dressed as a woman. I told Bryce that my roommate's job has him on the road most of the time, so he thinks he's gone when he comes over — but sometimes I'll let Chrissie stay in the bedroom if he's nice and quiet. It's our little secret, ain't it, baba?"

"Y-yes, Miss."

Katie scoffed. "Well, if you slap a wig on him, you could always try to pass him off as a girlfriend — although on second thought, there's no way Chrissie could ever pass for a woman."

"Hey, I resent that," Gina teased as she applied my eyeshadow. "I went to cosmetology school — I'm pretty good."

"You ain't that damn good." Katie smirked at me. "No offense, Chrissie."

"Come ooonnnnn, you guuyyys, stop picking on my baba." Rebecca stuck out her bottom lip. "Poor Chrissie, are my mean friends always picking on you?"

"Um ... er ... uh, it's okay, Miss."

"And you don't mind getting your little thingy pierced for me so you can wear one of those cages? And stop playing with yourself all the time?"

I swallowed, trying to stay still as Gina rubbed rouge onto my cheeks. "N-no, Miss."

"You're so special," Rebecca said. "My special little doll."

Katie sneered. "Hey, Chrissie, what do you think of when you play with yourself?"

"Um ..." I would've closed my eyes but Gina's eyeliner pencil prohibited it.

Rebecca huffed. "You better be thinking of me."

"Oh, of course, I do, Miss. That's all I ever think about when I ... when I—"

My angel waved her hand. "Ew, please, do not be more specific, Chrissie."

Everyone laughed as I fought back another round of tears, not wanting my newly applied eyeliner to run.

When the mirth faded, Gina snapped her compact shut, grabbed my shoulders and turned me toward Rebecca and Katie, who both broke into applause.

"OMG, you are so pretty, Chrissie." Rebecca held her hand to her mouth. "I don't know why I never thought to have you wear makeup before, but it's perfect. You look like a little doll with your rosy cheeks. I want you to always have big, rosy cheeks like that, okay, Chrissie?"

"Y-yes, Miss."

"All you need is a wig. Go buy one. A blonde, curly one, so you'll look like a little doll. My little Chrissie doll, with the rosy red cheeks. Go get the wig and one of those cock cage things, too. Actually, do the research and then show me all the different ones; I'll pick. And then you can go get your piercing."

"Y-yes, Miss."

"Ooh, I want to see him get pierced," Gina said.

Katie nodded. "Me too."

"We can make a party out of it," Rebecca agreed.

Katie leaned forward. "Hey, Becca, make him show it to us."

"Show what?"

"His little dicky."

"What for? It's not like you ain't seen it before."

"I know but I want to show you how the piercing works."

My princess shrugged. "Pull down your panties, Chrissie."

Red-faced, I obeyed and the girls hooted.

"OMG, I forgot how small it was." Gina tilted her head and squinted at my crotch. "Damn, Becca, how did you put up with it when you dated this shrimp-dick?"

"Be nice now," Rebecca chided, and my spirits soared because for a brief moment she'd stood up for me.

"Come over here, Chrissie." Katie pointed to a spot in front of her. After I complied, she crinkled up her nose and lifted my penis with her thumb and forefinger as if she were holding the tail of a dead mouse.

"So, he gets pierced with a hoop right under the head, here." She pointed with her other hand. "Then, when the device goes on, it attaches right to it. Voila!"

Gina poked Rebecca in the ribs and guffawed. "All of a sudden, she's a cock cage expert."

"No, my sister showed me pictures, asshole," Katie shot back. "Look it up if you don't believe me."

I was left to stand there with my panties around my ankles while the three ladies giggled over cellphone pictures of pierced cocks attached to cages. Rebecca lit up when she saw a chastity device that struck her fancy.